I've Just Seen A Face
by Pirate-Girl1017
Summary: After the reclaiming of the Lonely Mountain Fili has discovered just what it means to be Crown Prince. Throughout the rebuilding, constant meetings and politics he befriends another young royal still adjusting to her new life the same as him. Sigrid is not like other girls he's known and soon Fili finds himself falling for the Princess of Dale with no clue what to do about it.
1. Yes I Am Falling

**Disclaimer****: **I own nothing that comes from the minds of the great J.R. or Peter Jackson. Please do not sue a poor fan writer.

How in all of blessed Arda had it come to this? Some folk might brush it off as vestiges of his perilous adventure, the rush one feels when their life might be snuffed out at any moment and so their emotions become amplified. Others would sigh and look on with great big sparkling eyes as they recited pretty poetry about true love or some such sappy foolishness. Most would honestly chalk the predicament up to youthful imaginings. He really had no idea how to classify what was going on himself and that was his problem to begin with. Fine head he had on his shoulders, such excellent problem solving skills.

Through the boisterous laughter of Men and Dwarves alike he tried to start some distracting conversation with his brother but found his younger sibling utterly enraptured by the red headed female at his side. Of course, ever since the two had wed this past summer they had been absolutely insufferable. Now he was happy for Kili, never assume he wasn't, even if the fool went and fell hard head over clumsy feet for an Elf of all things. Although he had since learned that he should not tease too much, for now it was his turn to be the object of elbow jabbing and whispered puns when their uncle was not paying them mind. With a sigh he reached for his mug and downed the whole thing, waving over a server to refill it with ale. Keen blue eyes searched the crowd from the vantage point on the high table, looking for the source of his despondency. Having found her made him almost wish he hadn't, though that thought was quickly taken back as he would never wish to have her far from sight or mind, but still he would have rather liked to find her alone.

Crown Prince Fili, heir to the kingdom of Erebor fought the urge to leap over the table and punch the smirk off the face of a skinny human boy. The unsuspecting victim's crime? Flirting with Sigrid, Princess of Dale. Why? Because somewhere over the course of the last year, since the reclaiming of both their kingdoms, he found himself falling hopelessly for the honey haired, grey eyed lass. A daughter of Men, young even by the standards of her people and frail in form compared to his own. The years that he would no doubt live, long after she used up the short few allotted to her people should have daunted him from pursuing the lady. And yet he found himself caring more for what precious time he might have to share with her now than the distant future without. In his mind he thought back to just how the whole ordeal had started.

It had begun so minutely that he had spent more than one sleepless night just trying to recall where and when the tender feelings had first showed up. After much inner debate he concluded that the seeds of attraction had been planted from the moment he first laid eyes on her pretty face after making his very unbecoming entrance through her family's toilet. Wet, cold, shaking and smelling of fish he had welcomed the clean clothes she handed him and soon found his way in front of the fireplace. The three siblings were making the rounds, giving the company dry garments, disposing of the ruined ones they arrived in and eventually passing around mugs of steaming hot cider. It was Sigrid who came up to him bearing one such cup. She had tucked the wooden tray under one arm, he was the last in the long line already served. He smiled and thanked her, remembering the manners his mother had tried so hard to drill into his head over the years. Their finger tips brushed as the earthen ware mug passed from her to him and with only that slightest of touches he could tell that her skin was far softer than any Dwarrow's. Soft yet strong, his eyes were the keenest of the company and saw the callouses on slender fingers brought on from years of hard work.

"Thank you," he had said to her. "My uncle will never admit it but we are indebted to your family for putting us up like this." Their eyes met in truth for the first time and he thought how hers were akin to the sky after a storm.

"Da always says it is our duty and honor to help those in need," she smiled back and he swore his breath hitched a little for it. "Which one is your uncle?"

"The grumpy looking one." Looking over the crowded room that served as both kitchen, dining room and parlor, she nudged her head in the direction of Thorin. "Aye, that's him. Though I cannot say I blame him, I think I'll be smiling of trout for the next month."

"It is well that you are stranded in a fishing town then, most everyone smells like that," her giggle was infectious and he found himself chuckling along with her. "I'm Sigrid, though with fourteen of you I can't say I'll be able to remember your name but I can try."

"I'm Fili, at your service." At the time he dared say no more, not announcing whose son he was or where he hailed from, it was too risky then.

"Are you kin to the dark haired fellow, the tallish one? His name sounded similar to yours, but I've never met a Dwarf before so please don't take offense if I assume wrong." Sigrid silenced herself, turned a pretty shade of pink and fisting her hands into her apron. "Forgive me for rambling, it's just this day has been turned on it's head and I can't seem to right myself."

"There is no need to apologize to me, my lady, if anything it we who should be giving apologies to you and yours for taking over your house as we have." You would have thought he had offered her weight in gold the way her face turned an even deeper red and she mumbled her thanks in a stutter that came off as far more adorable than it should have. But before he might have had the chance to continue his conversation Thorin was calling him over to the window along with his brother. He and the bargeman's daughter only nodded to one another, small smiles were exchanged before she left his side to gather more blankets and he crossed the room to heed his uncle's call. She might have been just another face in a sea of faces he saw on that long journey, how little he knew then.

The rest of that first day was spent in a whirlwind, breaking into the armory, captured once again, going from being Bard's unwanted guests to the talk of town and drinking the stores of the Master. He remembered begging at Bard's house for help as Kili faded before his eyes. His brother looked like death, gray and gaunt. And then the bone chilling fear as Oin worked in vain to heal the seeping, black wound that caused Kili to scream and writhe in agony. Sigrid had worked alongside their healer, bringing him all the herbs they owned so her father might sort them, cutting new bandages, boiling water and working at keeping the ugly wound as clean as possible. It was really all a haze until after the Elves arrived, the fight with the Orcs a blur of blood and blades. One moment that stood out however was when one of the vile creatures set it's sights on Sigrid, her scream still echoed in his ears and with a shudder he remembered tackling the beast with no weapon save his bare hands to defend her.

Their brief goodbye on the shores of the lake before he left for the mountain was a silent one, she smiled but it did not reach her eyes and gave him a small wave which he half heartedly returned. After the battle, during the long, nightmare ridden hours of the following days, as he lay in a hospital tent he thought he had heard her voice. As he later learned it had been she was attending his bedside, though she had many other charges assigned to her at the time as well. When at last he was no longer sweating out the fever of infection and well enough to comprehend words she had told him how he was brought to her more dead than alive. Before they met she had been apprenticed to the head healer of Lake Town, who sadly had not survived the dragon fire. That made Sigrid the next best option the field hospital, so she rolled up her sleeves and dove into the horror left behind after their victory. When she learned of the dire wounds sustained by three of her former houseguests from an Elven nurse she demanded to be taken to them. There she watched as Gandalf and several of Mirkwood's best healers worked tirelessly to save the lives of him and his kin. She told him how only after their hearts were precariously deemed strong enough to continue beating, their flesh sewn together and bodies bandaged tight were others allowed within the surgeon's tent. King Thranduil offered his best healer to attend Thorin, his ill intent towards them suddenly changed. Tauriel refused to leave Kili's side and guarded him fiercely until her own wounds finally caught up with her and she was laid in a cot beside his. For some reason Sigrid returned to him whenever she could, though her own responsibilities were great. She brought broth for all three of them, her orders iron clad that solid food was strictly off limits until she gave them permission otherwise. And it was she who who re-bandaged their wounds when blood and poultices leaked through, she who with deft fingers stitched their torn flesh when their feverish thrashing ripped open the old thread.

When weeks passed and at last all three of them were deemed fit to walk she moved aside with that little smile of hers and returned to her duties. He had not seen her for more than a month after being moved to Erebor to begin overseeing the planning of rebuilding. They both had their people to look after, repairs to make to the mountain and Dale, preparations for winter needed to be made swiftly lest they be caught in a harsh season of snow and storms. With the help of the Elves the town of Men was made habitable with shipments of food and lumber, the same went for the Dwarves. All three races worked together as they had not done in over a century and for it they made it through the first thirty days of winter with only minimal casualties. When they met again it was for the new year of her people, held a little late but no one seemed to care very much about the date. It was a small celebration as they had not the resources to spare but the newly made King Bard had deemed it important to give his subjects something to lift their sprits. Sigrid was to be found dishing out bowls of hearty stew to the happy revelers instead of sitting at the high table looking down benevolently upon the common people. Fili was struck by the humility the new princess displayed, true the times were hard but even in desperate situations there were always those who took advantage, Lake Town's former Master came instantly to mind. He somehow managed to sneak away from his King's notice, though so had Kili and Tauriel, to made his way to the young woman busy changing one empty kettle for a fresh full one. She almost dropped it, the cast iron was no doubt heavy on it's own but the pot was filled to the brim with near boiling stew and he made a sprint to catch the side just as it was about to pour out all over her.

"Thank you," she gasped but was more concentrated on leveling the kettle on the table to pay heed to just who had helped her. When she saw him her eyes went a little wide, her hands again clenching in the folds of her stained apron in what had to be a nervous habit. "Prince Fili."

"Princess Sigrid." He recalled how she flinched at the title that first time it passed his lips, a little mirthless laugh escaping hers.

"I do not think I'll ever get used to be called that," she told him.

"And yet it's what you are, what you've really always been it's just that circumstances were not exactly ideal to fit the title." Why he spoke so candidly was a mystery and even shocking to him the moment the words left his mind.

"You speak from experience."

He knew she was young, even if she had passed her majority a few years previous but still painfully young compared to him. And yet there was certainty behind her words. The steel that surely ran through her slim form had kept her strong through the struggles that had plagued her whole life, it spoke of someone who had been forced to grow up far too soon. If there had been any difference in the way they had met he would have probably looked the other way not long after the barest of introductions had been made and would have never known otherwise what he had missed. He knew this, had it been before he left on the quest he would have gone on as always galavanting with mischief on his mind or locking himself away for long hours at the forge. But it hadn't and suddenly everything was clear and hazy, exhilarating and terrifying.

"I do."

"Then we have that in common, Prince Fili."

That had been the start of a very unusual yet fulfilling friendship. He felt a little guilty that his time with Sigrid was almost ignored while his brother seemed to be under constant supervision every instance he spent more than twenty minutes in the company of his Elven lady. Kili had made it very public that he intended to court Tauriel, damn the consequences and prejudices. While she was no longer banished for daring to protect the one she loved it was clear that some in Mirkwood would not be welcoming to the former captain. Fili had come in, betting on his newly beneficial status as Crown Prince to stand by the couple's side and argue their marriage as an important political alliance in the first steps to reestablishing good will between their kingdoms.

Through it all he exchanged letters with Sigrid, keeping her abreast of events within Erebor and she offering support and advice in return. Meanwhile the city of Dale never seemed to sleep. He could see from his bedroom window, one carefully hidden on the face of the mountain, that the lights were barely extinguished, the sounds of hammers rang throughout all hours of the night. In one letter that left him feeling deathly cold inside, she described to him the mass grave that was dug to bury the last petrified remains of Smaug's victims. There were stains of tears upon the parchment where she wrote of laying down the ashy shell of a child no older than her little sister. Sweet Sigrid with her big heart and spine of iron.

They saw one another again at the frequent meetings their respective kings called every two weeks in those first few months of rebuilding. At first there was some debate as to whether or not she should be accompanying her father but she held firm that as Lady of Dale she had as much right as her brother, the heir, to be privy to the political goings on that directly affected her people. One instance that stood out in their early acquaintance occurred in the early days of spring as she watched her younger brother learn the basics of swordplay in a courtyard set up at the halfway point between the two cities. The area had been chosen as common, neutral, ground where all might come together for public hearings or festivities. At the time is was filled with Dwarves, Men and even a few Elves unafraid to be seen with the other races, as despite the chill in the air they sparred and built the start of new garrisons. More than a few women had turned out to watch the men practice, an age old tradition that always proved to be quite an incentive for those in the ring. But even if his new friend had an ulterior motive other than watching her brother's progress she gave no outward hint. Instead she asked the occasional question about the lessons her father laid out and Fili answered them gladly. But when he asked her if she would like to learn as well her answer caught him completely by surprise.

"Well I should know enough to defend myself, I suppose. Da did teach me how to stun a man should I need to make a quick escape. Those Orcs...were nothing we could have expected. But...I don't think I could ever...kill someone. I've had enough death around me to last a lifetime, I couldn't add to that count myself."

"Sigrid of Dale, I have never known anyone quite like you."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"Only the highest of compliments, I assure you."

By Midsummer Erebor was almost well on the way to be deemed habitable, not near fully restored of course but with the assistance of Dain's people the ventilation and water systems along with many of the living areas were ready to see use again. Which was a grand thing as the first caravans began to arrive, whole families returning to the Lonely Mountain bringing with them much needed skills and the sheer numbers needed to run the huge city. It was also the day of his brother's wedding, some Elf tradition of marrying on the solstice bringing fertility to the couple. Their mother had only arrived a fortnight before and while Thorin had written to her months in advance of her younger son's choice of bride it was still quite the emotional reunion. Dis was wary at first but grew to respect her future daughter in law after hearing of just how many times she had saved Kili's life. That and how she appeared to be the only female besides Dis herself who could corral Kili when his bravado got the best of him. All the while he and the honey haired princess whispered and laughed with their eyes behind deceitfully calm faces. The wedding itself was small, or at least small enough as a second prince could get away with, but the fact that their realm was not yet filled with all their subjects might have been something to do with it. As it was the affair had been family centered, nice enough even though it was held outside and had entirely too many flowers scattered about.

It was also the first time he had ever seen Sigrid in a gown that was not a patched hand me down or of homespun make. Trade had begun again in earnest within the city of Men now that their share of the treasure in the mountain could be spent and Bard had gifted each of his children a new suit of clothes worthy of their station. She wore a silk creation of powder blue and vibrant yellow, embroidered with metallic thread in a simple vine pattern, cinched with a gold cord. The sleeves were tight on her arms, ending in points around delicate wrists, the belt emphasizing her slender waist. And the neckline while still modest lay slightly off her shoulders baring her collar in the warm weather. The only adornment she chose was an uncomplicated silver necklace studded with sea glass, a memento of her mother. Her hair flowed freely down her back in soft curls, the occasional daisy woven in through it.

The dress brought out the bright hue of her eyes, the taller and slender shape of her body.

Hers was a quiet beauty, one unspoiled by expensive trinkets or elaborate decoration.

Somehow over the course of the evening he found himself watching his brother and new sister in law as they danced. The familiar, mischievous urge to tease his little brother was not to be felt, not even a little. Instead his eyes never left the couple as Kili lead Tauriel in a Dwarven dance which was obviously unlike anything she had experienced in Mirkwood. But they laughed through it, tripping and spinning through the song. He swore they might have been glowing in their happiness. And it was not long after that when he was pulled from his disturbingly romantic thoughts by a tugging on his sleeve. Grey eyes sparkled like silver in the torch light, looking right at him.

"You haven't danced once all night and I won't have it another moment!"

The musicians struck up a lively tune that was answered by a roar of approval from the people of the lake. Before the long table a crowd quickly filled the wooden dance floor, couples pairing off sporadically over it, certainly this was no complicated line dance as he was used to. Sigrid was smiling and tugging him from his seat, sending longing looks out to the floor.

"I-I do not know the steps." Had he truly stuttered over that sorry excuse?

"Then I'll lead. Now come, silly Dwarf, you can't sit alone like a barnacle stuck to your seat at your brother's wedding!" There was no chance to fight back, one hard pull and he was half falling from his chair and being hauled out like a pet on a leash behind one very determined lady.

They danced almost every set for the remainder of the party, pausing only to find a quick drink to revitalize them before rushing out for another go. Together they taught one another the favorite dances of their people, folk dances, line dances, slow and fast, it mattered not. Of course this did not go unnoticed by the hawk eyes of their respective elders and more than once were both of them reminded of the societal rules and implications of dancing so exclusively. And this was of course brushed aside in return, it had not mattered before they assumed the power behind their inherited titles and they would not let it matter now. During one of the few breaks they allowed themselves this was the topic of conversation as they sipped sweet honey mead.

"Da is suddenly so concerned with propriety, if I didn't know any better I'd say the Elven wine had gotten to his head."

"Mother has been trying to drill etiquette into our heads since birth. It's not like I don't know how and when to use it but forge and hammer it's my brother's wedding!"

"Mayhap for a more...somber event, something ripe with political intrigue or something," she shook her head, seemingly searching her thoughts for the right words. "You know what I mean." A pale pink blush colored her cheeks, clearly the drink was a wee bit stronger than she was used to.

"Exactly! There's no visiting dignitaries, no over anxious lasses trampling over each other to get in line should I even breathe that I might fancy a dance." Looking back it was obvious he had been drinking just a little too much that night as well.

"Was that normal in the Blue Mountains? Ladies scrambling to lay hands on the Crown Prince?" She seemed entirely too amused with the image he had painted, he threw back his mug glaring at her pointedly over the rim.

"Others might consider them 'ladies' but blood hounds might be more accurate," he groused.

"Oh, so we of the female kind are like hunting dogs?"

"I never said you were lumped in with that comparison," he said swiftly, trying to dissuade the angry look from her face. "You, Sigrid, are more a lady than anyone I've ever met!" Somehow along the way he had set aside his cup and hers to take those pale hands in his own. "They were born to the title and saw it as reason enough for my attention. But you, you earned yours with your willingness to stand alongside your people in their suffering. You who is unafraid to work the fields and kitchens if need be , to open her heart to those in grief instead of hiding in her fine house lest she dirty her hands. If any woman ever deserved the to be called Lady, let alone Princess, it is you."

Sigrid looked down at him, her lips fallen open in shock, the flush in her cheeks spreading, seemingly a loss for words. She nibbled on her lower lip, the sight brought forth just for a moment the thought of tasting those lips for himself. The drink must have truly gone to his head that night.

"You know, that you were the first person to ever call me 'lady'."

"Than I am proud to have such a high distinction."

After the bride and groom had been carried off to their chambers, with much fanfare and colorful language from the groom's side, the party at last began to slow it's course. The final songs were sung, the little food left over was cleared away to be given out the following day. Those who could walk began the trek home, those who could not were given rides back on the carts that brought both passengers and gifts earlier. Friends made their goodbyes and so the Kings and Dale and Erebor took their leave of one another, their families in tow behind them. That was the first night Fili dreamed of Sigrid. In his mind's eye he saw her dancing, blue skirts twirling around her long legs, sun kissed hair flying about her laughing face. And those striking eyes, bright as mithril, gazing back at him.

As the summer continued so did their near daily correspondence. By now the ruined front gate of Erebor was restored to it's former glory, the Hall of Kings was hung with new tapestries and the now golden floor utilized as a gleaming centerpiece despite it's dubious origins. Thorin ordered the forges to be attended to next, having suffered great distress not only from the dragon but the Company's attempt at slaying said beast. If the mountain were to thrive they would need to begin supporting themselves as quickly as possible, even with the horde that could easily buy all the imports in Middle Earth. No, Dwarves were workers not matter their station and would go mad if left with idle hands. All of this Fili told Sigrid in his letters and in return he learned of the new harvest being enjoyed in Dale. The Desolation could take a lifetime to fully recover from the burn of dragon fire but plots beyond the city of Men closer to the water were found to be fertile with the added assistance of Radagast the Brown. Further down the river Esgaroth was slowly being torn down only to rise again anew, larger and better than anyone had ever hoped for. It was still far too early to know just how well this new town on the water would grow but those who once dwelled there were optimistic. Even in the mountain progress was celebrated only shortly, there were still long months and years ahead until at last their homes might be called complete.

After a tiring day of hard labor and mind melting politics he would find himself rereading her letters by the light of a crystal hewn lamp. He could see how her penmanship improved over time from constant practice and a slanted, swirling style slowly develop. She had been embarrassed to admit at first that she had never much reason to write before, only knowing the letters enough to not scribble out something totally indecipherable. In the time between writing he would take any chance to join a contingent to Dale, always making time to spend in the company of the princess under whatever excuse that fit best. Sometimes they would tour the city, she pointing out improvements that were not yet finished when last he visited. Other times they would just sit in her solar within the newly completed mansion of her ancestors and he would play fiddle for her. Only his brother ever commented on his friendship with the young woman. He found himself grateful for the ignorance of others, not wanting to share his relationship to Sigrid with anyone. That word gave him pause one night as he grinned over a silly story of her younger siblings he was sure he might have memorized some time ago. Relationship, such a word might imply a plethora of implications that left the breath stilling in his chest. By autumn that damned word might as well have been a curse, perhaps a sweet one but a curse none the less.

**Author's Note****: **Well, my last one shot left me feeling rather sad so I went and tried to make myself happy again. Fili just happens to be my favorite of the brothers and I just can't help but be hopelessly devoted to pairing him with Sigrid, they're just too cute. So as this is only my second foray into this fandom I'm curious how you all liked it. Good? Bad? Somewhere in the middle? I also found the first version of this story too long for my liking to call it a one shot, so I split it in half. Stay tuned for part two! Until next time, happy reading!


	2. She Keeps Calling Me Back Again

**Disclaimer****: **If I owned anything associated with Tolkien I would have had it published by now and not posting on a fan site. So please do taking the poor college student for what little she has.

More and more Dwarves were coming to the Lonely Mountain from all the scattered remains of the original inhabitants. Along with the artists, masons, black smiths and crafters came those of the noble stock, both those Fili had grown up with and those who had not bothered with them since the day the dragon came. Dis played the part well of the acting matron of their family, welcoming their illustrious new neighbors with a smile that came from years of practice. When not locked behind the doors of the council chamber her sons and daughter in law were summoned to her side to assist. The three of them found that they had something essential in common during the greeting of long parades of nobility, they all utterly despised it. Constantly bitting one's tongue as the lords snubbed the existence of his sister, he and Kili holding in the laughter as his mother called them out on their rudeness. But it was the Dwarrowdams who were the worst of it. Some, a very small number, were polite and respectful with a few of the younger ones expressing a genuine interest in becoming acquainted with the Princess Tauriel. But the rest of them...he felt like a prize pheasant and they were the hunters.

It was during the feast thrown for his birthday that November that the season for hunting Crown Prince seemed to be declared open. Both the families he had known from birth and those who once deemed them too poor to be bothered with were armed to the teeth with boasts of ancestral prestige, handsome treasuries and that most coveted of weapons, unmarried daughters. He had been raised Thorin's heir, grew up learning the intricacies of ruling a kingdom but it was not until they had regained the mountain had he ever felt just what was entailed with being the future king. In the Blue Mountains he had always been popular with the fairer sex and had a reputation that he would rather see left behind because of it. But nothing compared to the attention he received now, nor the weight of what that attention carried. It was expected that he marry, produce heirs of his own and the realization hit him like a ton of stone.

"They swarm like bees," he muttered into his trencher.

"And you, dear brother, are the choicest of honeys. Oh am I glad to be happily wed now that I see what the price is for being born a prince."

"If this frightens you then I should have liked to see your face had the females been upon you as they were on Legolas," Tauriel smiled wickedly.

"Oh please tell me that he was cornered by a horde of ladies in lacy petticoats with no escape like a gopher run to ground." When his wife nodded Kili laughed out loud, head thrown back, slapping his thigh.

"Please continue to joke about a fate I'm doomed to share with the pretty princess of the wood, I'm sure it'll lift my spirits just fine." He might have hid his face by slamming his head on the table but the gold crown he wore would have made too much of a racket. Not long after he tried to loose himself in his cups so that he might have a truthful reason to escape his mother and uncle both all but threw him onto the dance floor, reminding him that as the heir he had to at least pretend to be social. His partners ranged from admittedly stunning ladies with elegantly styled hair and beards to dour spinsters who were only there because their families forced the issue. Throughout the evening he was also obligated to except his gifts personally, thanking each guest for their kindness. Marriageable ladies were quickly put on display by hopeful parents, giving to him finely wrought goblets, precious gems big as his fist, furs of rare quality and a veritable horde of of presents he had absolutely no use for. Shy maidens were shoved before him with trembling hands, confident ones handed him their gifts in such a way that emphasized the low cut of their gowns. It was nearly to the point where he was seriously considering taking a flying leap into the mine shafts when his savior appeared to the booming voice of the announcing footman.

"Her Royal Highness, Sigrid Princess of Dale." She approached his seat at the high table, a cloth wrapped bundle in her hands. Her gown was scarlet satin with a silken white underskirt, her dark gold hair coiled around her head in braids shot through with silver ribbons that matched the choker round her throat.

"Prince Fili," her curtsy was graceful and well practiced. "Thank you for inviting my family and I to your celebration. I wish you a happy birthday and many more to come. Please except our gift for you." Though she smiled it did not reach her eyes, her words were formal and strained as she held out the parcel. When he took it from her their fingers brushed just ever so slightly but a shiver still rushed down his spine at the feel of her warm flesh, it was then he realized he actually missed her touch. Still he wondered then what could make the normally jovial girl so somber when at previous parties she was always in the thick of it all. Pulling the twisted cord that held the gift closed tight he pulled the contents free. A few snickers were heard from those still waiting to bestow their presents and even some of the wealthy Dwarves still feasting at the nearby tables. Sigrid stiffened, cheeks burning red, her hands clutching together until her knuckles went white. For the first time Fili felt the urge to pull rank and tell the offending fools to shut their filthy mouths.

"It is lovely, Sigrid, just what I needed for my winter visits into Dale. Did you make it yourself?" He held out the knitted scarf, noting the tight weave and sturdy wool that showed the result of years perfecting the art at spinning wheel and needle. It was a warm buff in hue, so similar to the colors he favored and wore the first time they met. Around the edges in russet was a complex pattern he knew must have been copied from his hair ornaments, someone must have given her one to study from.

"I did. You mentioned once how cold the lands below the mountain can be." The words were strong but the upturned noses and piecing looks of the Dwarven nobility around her were starting to break past the calm facade she tried to hold.

"You remembered right. And such a thoughtful gift made by your own hands is greatly appreciated." Despite the heat of the massive fireplaces along the walls and the tell tale warmth brought on by the ale, he slung the scarf around his neck. "I will cherish it, thank you Princess Sigrid." That quieted the full of themselves nobles, leaving them gawking for he had not treated anyone's present so favorably all evening. He saw the sharp gaze of the lady before him notice this as well, a smile of gratitude graced her fair face.

"You are very welcome, Your Highness," she curtsied again.

"After the gift giving has ended may I trouble you for a dance?"

"Always."

Looking back something had changed drastically that night between the two of them, and there were witnesses to prove it. As she left to return to her seat at the table flanking the his own, reserved for the dignitaries of Dale and Esgaroth, her father looked to him. The King of Men studied him from afar, it was damn near intimidating until Bard cracked the hint of a smile and bowed his head to him. That slight gesture was something he pondered over for several nights, trying to decipher what it meant. An answer floated in the back of his mind, one that made his heart beat madly for not only joy but for the implications of what it meant. Only after he had run through every other possible explanation did he allow himself to accept what the Bowman had given him that night.

Permission.

It was likely to the be the greatest birthday present he would ever receive, also the most complicated. When he told Kili about it his little brother just started laughing like a mad man. Apparently it was he who gave Sigrid the means to copy his personal sigil for his scarf, the sneaky rascal had been watching the two of them for months now.

"It really took you this long to realize your feelings for the woman? Brother you are getting slow in your old age!"

"Well not everyone is able to pick out their One amidst a killer spider attack and then make moon eyes at one another through jail bars! Or laying half dead on a bowl of walnuts!"

"Atmosphere."

"Dumb luck."

"So you admit that Sigrid is your One?"

"Is it that obvious?"

A knowing stare coupled with a raised eyebrow was his silent answer, to which he sighed heavily and fell face first onto his bed. Muttering to himself he groaned when his sarcastic sibling continued to make speech.

"I'm sorry but I don't speak muffled blanket."

Fili raised his head from the soft furs, glaring through the fall of hair that now obscured his face. With a sigh he brushed the distressed braids out of the way and switched to lay on his back, staring blankly up at the carven stone canopy above.

"Uncle will never allow it."

"I don't think he'll have much of a choice, fate is fate and that's about all there is to it." Kili plucked a half finished wood figurine and a small knife from his pocket, starting to whittle at what would eventually be a little solider. "If he could keep his mouth shut during my wedding then I think he shouldn't be too much trouble for yours."

"But I'm expected to be siring the next king. If not it's you and your bairns who inherit and I highly doubt Uncle will go quietly into the Halls of Mahal if he knew an Elf would be sitting on the throne of Erebor."

"And wouldn't a child of Men be the lesser of two evils?"

"I don't even know right now," he ran his hands over his face, rubbing his tired eyes. "No, I am certain of one thing, that Sigrid is the most practical, thoughtful, pretty, caring being on the face of Middle Earth. I know I cannot bare the weeks between our meetings, that I've nearly trampled the post runner over on several occasions to see if one of her letters was waiting for me. She is the sunshine after a fierce rain, bright and golden as a summer day, far too high and good for me..."

"Oh you have it bad," Kili chuckled.

"Do I have to remind you of your fever speak of Elven maidens prancing in the starlight?"

"I think you should speak with Mother, at least with her on your side there is a chance of you not having your head caved in when Thorin chucks the crown at your fat head."

The conversation with their mother went about as well as could be expected. There was no chance he could have faced her alone, so Kili was drug along with him for moral support as well as a potential wall of protection should Dis turn violent. At first it seemed like the tactic of hiding behind his taller, younger, brother would be the most likely way he might live through the encounter, especially when an embroidery hoop was sent flying across the room like a buckler shield. But after explaining just how serious the situation was, followed by just who the lady in question happened to be, their mother began to calm down.

"King Bard's eldest daughter?"

"Princess Sigrid, yes."

"The one who Dwarrowdams are call a skinny, uppity child who needs to mind where she sticks her underdeveloped nose?"

"Who said that? Who dared?" A hand clutched at him, he looked down to find Kili gripping his arm, holding him back when he had not realized how he was already stalking forward. The tone in his voice reminded him of how Thorin sounded just before he charged into battle, low and growling and utterly unlike himself.

"Oh, I see," Dis smirked, blue eyes twinkling and sat in her large wingback chair by the fireplace. "As for the answer to your question, you would be surprised just how many ladies have gossiped about your interest in the girl."

"Wait, you knew?" They both took seats before their mother, feeling as though they were dwarflings again under her icy blue gaze.

"A mother always knows when her sons are utterly smitten. You are right to think yourselves sneaky but you didn't inherit that trait from your father." She looked down her nose at them, flipping her long ebony braid over her shoulder.

"Then why throw blunt objects at me if you already knew who I was coming to ask your permission to court?"

"Well I couldn't let you get off so easy now could I? Both my boys falling head over heels for women not of good Dwarvish families? Not a beard between them, tall as cornstalks with one older than you both put together while the other barely a babe? I like the girls, level headed they both are to keep you two in line. But I certainly could not just let you run off into the sunset without at least the pretense of decent Dwarrow sentiment."

"That's a relief," his little brother clapped him on the back.

"Quiet you! I have a far easier time accepting Sigrid than I did Tauriel, your tomfoolery only softened me up for your brother's eventual demise." Her scolding shut Kili right up, the fully grown and married Dwarf turning a bright red under his mother's sharp tongue. "As for you, oh heir to the throne, I will back your suit but you know full well that the court will give you a far harder time than they did Kili. There's more at stake for them now and I have had my fair share of noble ladies telling me just how well their daughters would look hanging off your arm. But Fili, my boy," her voice grew serious, her face soft. "She will not live as long as you, should you have children she would not see them reach their majority. You realize this?"

"I do," he stood a little taller and did his best not to allow his voice to waver. "But I love her and I'll spend my life making her happy, for however long we are allowed to be together. I'll do whatever I must, for her sake." Dis reached up to cup his cheeks, pulling him down until their foreheads gently bumped and he let himself breathe easy again.

"So all that is left is your uncle...leave him to me."

As expected the screaming match heard that night from the royal wing had more than a few wondering if the mountain would be falling down around them. By the end of it all brother and sister both were sporting their fair share of bumps and bruises. Thorin had a fine black eye and Dis a split lip when they finally left the chamber they had locked themselves in. But whatever she had done, his Amad somehow managed to convince the king to accept his heir wishing to court the woman he loved. Clearly the decision was still of sour taste to his uncle but he swore to him that Sigrid would make a strong, caring wife and queen who would help bring their peoples together. Thorin agreed that Fili had a fair point in noting her good qualities but reminded him of one very vital fact, he had yet to actually admit his feelings and intentions to the lady herself.

So that was how he came to find himself in the present situation. It was Yule and the first anniversary of their victory at the Battle of the Five Armies combined into one large week long celebration. Last night the party had begun in Dale, tonight it was held in Erebor and would change every two days hence foe the next ten days. And here he sat, surrounded by friends and family, ale running like rivers, food that never seemed to exhaust it's supply, music and merriment everywhere he looked. Except he was not in much of a merry mood, instead he glared over the rim of his golden goblet to the sight at the next table over.

A young man sat at the table of King Bard, the son of a visiting merchant if he heard right. Rich, well connected, looking for a more permanent tie with the newly prosperous city of Dale. He was handsome by the standards of Men perhaps but had barely a chick's down upon his chin, a slim build that pointed to an easy going life and hands without the slightest trace of callouses on them. And he had eyes only for Sigrid for the whole of the last two nights. Fili hated him on sight. Being that he and his rotund sire were guests of her father and she being lady of the his house, Sigrid had to entertain them even here as to not damage the trade talks the men were slowly negotiating. She did what she had to and he respected her all the more for it but there was no excuse for the simpering dandy to keep inching closer her every time she tried to put space between them. Still he would lay hands on her bared shoulders, lean in to whisper in her ear despite her attempts to make him cease. When the boy reached up to her hair, a lovely style half up and half down, to smile lecherously as he pointed to a sprig of mistletoe pinned in the honey curls Fili had had enough.

Slamming his cup down, spilling half of it onto the table, he left his place at the high table and thundered across the hall. He thought he could hear his family commenting behind him but did not care to catch the words. At the end of the long table Bard had at last noticed the discomfort of his daughter and was about to stand only to meet his eye, Fili motioned him to sit and the two nodded to one another in understanding. By now the boy was insisting upon being given a kiss, having freed the festive plant from Sigrid's hair, she looking on in disgust and trying so valiantly not cause a scene. Sweet woman, she might have had her wish had the fool not taken hold of her arm in an attempt to pull her into his arms.

Her hand raised to strike him across the face, it landed with a sharp crack sending the boy's head swinging left. His dazed expression stared back at Fili for but a moment before he reared his arm back and planted his fist square in the middle of his face. Feet flew up in the air as the would be suitor flipped backwards over his chair to land hard in the rushes that covered floor. Blood seeped from his nose as he scrambled to his feet, slipping on the remnants of his drink which had fallen down with him, dirtying his fancy clothes and causing him to fall flat more than once.

"I do not think the Princess was accepting of your advances, boy." Fili gave him a swift kick to the rear, righting the young man to his unsteady feet. "I would suggest you apologize."

"Who do you fink you are Dwarvf?" his words were lisped and muffled from what was probably a broken nose.

"That is the Crown Prince of Erebor and you will respect him as such," Sigrid scolded, wrenching her hair ornament from the hand not trying to stay the flow of blood from his face.

"Rethpect? He accosted me for noffing!" By now they had quite the audience, party goers of all three races looking on with bated breath for the drama that unfolded before them.

"Nothing? You have been manhandling and pressing yourself upon Her Highness for two days. Again, I say you tell her you're sorry." From the end of the table he could see Bard and the boy's father looking intently down at them, both with guarded expressions as they awaited a response. The young man looked to his parent for help but the older man looked away, clearly embarrassed by his son's behavior.

"What's ith to you if I flirt wiff her?" Stubborn simpleton.

"That should not matter, a gentleman never allows a lady to be disrespected as you have been disrespecting her," he waved the man down to his level, the fool actually complied. Wrapping one hand around his scrawny neck he lead him like a dog on a leash to the far end of the table, throwing him at the feet of his father. "Now apologize to your father for shaming him like this and then to Princess Sigrid for dishonoring her in public." The pretty boy lifted his dark head, looking again for help but was met with the cold look same as before.

"I am sorry Father and I am sorry Princess," his voice was tight, the words uttered through clenched teeth but the point had been made. He returned to Sigrid where she stood waiting, the cheering of the surrounding guests bringing a bright smile to her face.

"That was well done, my Prince." The warmth that passed through him when she spoke the endearment almost sapped the courage right out of him. She had never referred to him as her anything before.

"I could not sit idle while the cur took advantage of your good manners, though by the end you seemed ready to do the same."

"One more moment of that and I was ready to slam his smug face into the mince pie." And he believed she would have. He noticed then how there was still a fair number of eyes still concentrated solely on them, this would not do.

"Could I ask you join me on the terrace, it overlooks our gardens, get you away from the gossips for a while?" That sounded utterly horrible and he chided himself for an idiot. How did Kili make it look so easy to just spout poetry to a lass on a whim while he could only do half as well in private?

"I would love to."

Flabbergasted he offered his arm out of habit and nearly cursed himself right after as Sigrid had near a foot of height on him. Just as he went to pull back her hand reached out to lay upon his, looking up he found her smiling and awaiting him to lead the way. He took her to the long balcony that looked down on the indoor gardens, loving the stunned reaction she gave. Many would not think that Dwarves had much to do with the art of growing things but the fauna within the mountain was just as beautiful as anything that grew outside. Not to mention that within and away from the biting cold an artificial summer could be created with a few strategically placed vents from the forges, seasons did not exist and flowers might grow all year long. The blossoms thrived under the light of crystal lamps and shafts of moonlight from windows carved out along the walls. Lichen crawled up trellises like vines and emitted a faint glow that lit the covered archways that meandered like a maze below them.

"I've never seen anything like it!"

"Thought you would enjoy it."

"Can we go down closer?"

"Of course." They descended a staircase and he let her run free amongst the sweet smelling plants. He leaned against a marble pillar, uncaring if he wrinkled his fine gold brocade, happy just to watch her admire every bloom she came upon. The dark green of her gown blended with the leaves, the brown fur trim along her sleeves and hem with the trees, the blonde curls flying behind her a match for the lily whose scent she seemed to like best. She looked as though she belonged here and the thought thrilled him to the marrow.

"Oh Fili how do you manage it?"

"I confess it was not I who cares for the plants, I think I would kill them if I tried."

"No, I..." she trailed off and sat down on a stone bench, hands bunching in her skirts, a sure sign of her being nervous. "How do I say...You just...I can't seems to find the words," a nervous giggle escaped her pink lips.

"Why should you be troubled? You have never been so with me before," slowly he made his way toward her, not wishing to startle her even more. This was new territory, he found himself unsure how to calm her and that did not sit well with him at all.

"Because before I did not know..." her words trailed off. She looked down into her lap, cheeks burning red, biting her lower lip. Carefully he reached out, grasping her gently by the chin and tilting her head up to meet his gaze.

"What didn't you know?"

"How you always manage to say or do exactly the right thing," that confidence he so adored returned as she continued to speak and his heart beat all the faster for it. "That every time we meet you somehow turn my thoughts away from whatever grieves me, make me feel as though I'm deserving of this new life I've been given." When she paused her bright eyes closed for a moment but when they opened again they glowed with such warmth, such feeling, that his knees might have buckled beneath him. One slender hand reached up to cup his cheek and he gladly leaned into her hold.

"And then?" He knew there was more, there had to be more.

"And then I go home and you're no longer beside me and the world looks gray again. I wait for your letters with such impatience that the whole household knows better than to pause to give them to me."

"It is the same for me."

"When I finally realized just why I felt so empty when we were apart yet so full of life when we were together it was as if it was the easiest answer in the world." Her voice had gone low, the hand at his cheek began to tremble. Taking hold of it, he brought her soft skin to his lips, relishing the sound of her breath hitching when he laid kisses on each fingertip.

"Tell me, this answer you came to find," he gazed into her beautiful grey eyes and could not look away. "Because I know mine."

"Oh Fili," a lovely smile broke out across her pretty features, tears started to glisten.

"I love you, Sigrid."

"And I you."

They came together, her arms thrown about his neck, his wrapping tightly around her waist. Their lips met in a kiss that sent a wave of heat down the whole of his body, she trembled in his arms in a delightful way that had him pulling her as close to him as he could. She tasted of honey cakes and fine wine, her form lithe and supple in his embrace. He never wanted it to end. But when it did and they pulled back just slightly enough to touch their foreheads together he found himself smiling, as was she. A little giggle came from those sweet lips and he was about to ask what might amuse her so but her hand slide down his throat and rested upon the nestled folds of yarn there.

"You're wearing the scarf I gave you and you're not even outside."

"I told you I would cherish it," he kissed the tip of her nose and she giggled again. "And with you gone I was simply desperate to be near you somehow."

"What a hopeless romantic you are." With a happy sigh she ran her fingers through his hair, he shivered at the feeling and hoped for many more such occasions where she might caress him so.

"And you love me for it."

"Aye my handsome prince, that I do." He thought a moment, carefully weighing the options as he would a rare gem with which to use in a priceless setting. It took but a moment to make his decision. Kissing her again, deeper and putting all his passion into it, he knelt on one knee before his lady.

"Can I ask you a question?" A look of absolute shock, disbelief and barely contained happiness radiated from her wide eyed look, but still she nodded her assent. "Dwarves love but once in our life, we call the mate destined to stand by our side our One. Only once before has a member of our kind found his One outside of another Dwarf and you already know him. But now I have found mine in you, Sigrid, and I never wish to be parted from you ever again. Would you do the the greatest honor in making me the happiest Dwarf in all Arda by becoming my wife?"

"Yes," she answered breathlessly. "Nothing would make me happier!" Crystalline tears fell from her eyes though she smiled with the brightness of the sun itself. She dropped to her knees, falling into his arms laughing and kissing until they lost their balance and collapsed in a heap upon the grass. "And here I was hoping beyond hope for just a kiss tonight," she sighed, laying her head on his chest.

"Is that what the mistletoe was for?"

"Of course."

"Silly woman, you should learn to aim higher than a simple kiss," he said, running his fingers through the loose curls hanging down her back. "In fact, I shall show you how we Dwarves do things," carefully sitting her up he stood and offered his hand to help bring her to her feet. "I want the whole of the world to know of our love, let them talk and wonder but know they will. Here and now, we'll announce our engagement tonight."

"I would have it no other way."

"Come, my princess, let us go tell all our happy news." They shared one more tender kiss before clasping hands and making their way back to the celebration, off to let the whole of the wide world know of their joy. Let others question such a love, they meant nothing to him. Fili had all he could ever want, she was the sun in his sky, his Sigrid, and nothing and no one could ever take her loving light away from him.

**Author's Note****: **So here's the ending to our little drama. Did you all like it? I'm not sure if I'll keep playing around in Middle Earth, what with school looming and other fics begging for my short attention span to return to them, but I guess only time will tell. Hope you all enjoyed this little adventure. Until next time, happy reading!


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